


Archangel On The Rise

by AugustStories



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adam Milligan is Not Forgotten, Adam and Michael are the best, Anger, Chuck Shurley Being an Asshole, Episode Fix-It: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Father-Son Relationship, Grief, M/M, Michael Possessing Adam Milligan, happy end, hinted at relationships in the end, surprise character in the end, throwbacks to other episodes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AugustStories/pseuds/AugustStories
Summary: Michael was convinced that if only prompted enough he could end this world quite easily on his own.Ripped apart by grief, only recently healed over scars of freedom torn open by pain and loneliness, shredded into pieces by missing Adam like a cut off wing. Molden lava had replaced the blood in human veins. Lightning kept on flashing between fingertips as he remained standing in front of the altar in St. Michaels, knowing that the eyes set upon Jesus on the Cross were icy white with fury.No one would stop him now.No one could.
Relationships: Jack Kline & Michael, Michael & Adam Milligan, Michael & Dean Winchester, Michael/Adam Milligan
Comments: 26
Kudos: 151





	Archangel On The Rise

**Author's Note:**

> My head came up with another scenario for 15x19 so I wrote it down.
> 
> Please don't start negative discussions about the show's finale in the comments. I loved season 15, I loved the ending and I would rather take a step back from the negativity. I said goodbye to the show on a happy note and I don't want to lose that.

    Archangel On The Rise
    
    _\--_
    
    _**Arise then, oh invincible prince, bring help against the attacks of the lost spirits to the people of God, and bring them the victory.**_
    

\--

Adam was gone and Michael was angry.

That was about as simple as any human language could put it.

Angry.

How simple a word to describe a feeling that had taken ahold of him ever since he had felt how his other half had been torn from within the secure shelter of his Grace. Nothing should have been able to penetrate those walls, nothing but the power of God could have ever gone past those walls of steel, so it had been clear to him from then on what was happening.

And anger... it was too simple to describe it.

Anger meant nothing against the hurricanes building under the skin of his vessel, under _Adam's_ skin.

Michael was convinced that if only prompted enough he could end this world quite easily on his own.

Ripped apart by grief, only recently healed over scars of freedom torn open by pain and loneliness, shredded into pieces by missing Adam like a cut off wing. Molden lava had replaced the blood in human veins. Lightning kept on flashing between fingertips as he remained standing in front of the altar in St. Michaels, knowing that the eyes set upon Jesus on the Cross were icy white with fury.

Wings spread and every feather tensed with stress and tension and the desire to destroy, to see Creation burn for what he had lost. For whom had been taken from him.

Everything he had told Adam that day in the Winchester's bunker revealed itself to be a lie now, the only lie he had ever told the kid. The only one.

\--

_**'You and I... have been together for years. My Father and I have been together for eternity.'** _

\--

A lie. A lie. A lie.

How could an eternity ever hold up to this? How could an eternity ever _make up_ for this **pain**? How could it ever mean enough to stuff a hole bigger than the universe?

Michael felt hollowed out, he felt like his very core of Grace had been ripped out right along with Adam's soul. His soul, his soul of warmth, of unending kindness and unquestioned love and support, his soul of limitless and unconditional loyalty, his soul of true friendship. His never ending curiosity, his awe at the simplest things, his laughter over every small piece of joy.

Michael wanted it back, he wanted it all back.

\--

_**'Does it hurt to ask questions?'** _

_**'Yes! It would. It would mean that I doubt him. The good son, the favourite doubts his Father.'** _

_**'You still care about that? After he left you in the Cage?'** _

_\--_

Not anymore.

Not after he took Adam.

\--

By the time the Winchesters showed up a good day or two later – what did time matter anymore – Michael had reigned himself in again for the most part, mostly so he wouldn't be detected by his Father before he was ready. The thunderstorm raging over the church and this little insignificant town was the only thing he couldn't stop, was the anger slipping through his fingers that were pressing down on a barrel of hurricanes and tsunamis. A barrel of earthquakes and firestorms.

Michael was not surprised to see the brothers and the nephilim alive, let alone was he shocked over it, regardless of what he said and how he acted in front of them. He knew why they were here, why they had sought out this place, no doubt because the nephilim had felt something being out there still aside from them, too inexperienced and too impatient to tell more.

Michael was to be used as just another weapon.

Because that was what they saw in him, the only thing they in him.

He could see it in Dean's eyes the moment his once destined vessel turned around and spotted him. He could see it in Sam's eyes, too, even though he at least looked genuinely sorry upon hearing about Adam.

As if any of them had ever cared about Adam! As if either of the brothers had ever thought about their youngest brother in all the years he had been stuck in the Cage. As if either of them had ever loved and understood Adam like Michael had.

Michael wouldn't be used by them, oh, he would pretend, he would pretend to play their games, to become one of the pawns in this game against God. He would pretend to follow their plans, pretend to follow them, but the truth would be so wildly different. He would not fall into the trap that had cost Gabriel his life twice, once faked and once real, he wouldn't come to care about them, he wouldn't be blinded by them so he could be used.

He wouldn't be Raphael and underestimate their treachery and their drive. They wouldn't fool him. He wouldn't be Lucifer and let anger control his actions and blind him to their real intentens.

No one would stop him now.

No one _could_.

\--

He agreed to help the Winchesters and right away as he joined them back in their bunker – his Grace yearning for the last remnants of Adam's short presence in this place – he picked up on what their real intentions were. He might have laughed if there had been any humor left in him but that had vanished right along with Adam. As if he could have been fooled into not seeing how the nephilim's powers were sucking on everything and everyone who couldn't defend himself against it, this child was more unstable than most chemical reactions.

One wrong move and he would blow and take everyone down with him, everyone who was left anyway. As far as plans went, they couldn't have picked worse, this wouldn't stop God, the kid had no idea what he was doing or how to do it right, but it certainly gave Michael the idea on how to fix the blaring difficulties in his own thoughts.

He put up shields against this syphoning nephilim and then played along to whatever music and dance the Winchesters wanted to perform.

\--

\--

"How are you feeling?"

"Winded."

He spun a tale of not having fought like that in a long time when in truth he needed the silence right then and there to not burst at the seams. So much Grace contained within his own, pure unfiltered power running along every cell of his Adam's body. Dean Winchester's annoying oblivousness to it all was refreshing though and took his mind far more easily off the storms burning beneath his fingertips than the memories of Adam in this place could.

Even though every second of this conversation was a trick to no doubt keep him away from the nephilim struggling under the power surge. Whatever little Michael had given him to keep up the illusion. Fools, just fools. So many years they had fought against Good and Evil, against Heaven and Hell and Earth and everything, and still they underestimated the oldest archangel in existence.

Their loss, his gain.

When Dean asked about Adam, Michael felt tempted to snap him into dust but for now preferred a look that conveyed that feeling just as well. When he in turn asked about the obvious lack of Castiel's presence, it was Dean who locked up and glared at him so his Father had played his games there, too, again it seemed.

Better so, probably, for Michael's games. Castiel had always seemed the one with his head still on his shoulders in this bunch of chaotics.

"You ever regret not saying yes?" Michael asked when the silence became stiffling in the kitchen and his mind just kept on conjuring up how Adam had hated this kind of awkwardness. "The story could have been wildly different."

"Do you think there ever was a chance of me saying yes?" Dean held againt it and it was incredible how the tables had turned, how this conversation had been so wildly different back in the day. "You were the one who once told me it was all destined to happen. And turns out, it did, just not the way either of us had expected it. Chuck wrote everything..."

"He didn't write your choices," Michael corrected him and how could this be true, the archangel lecturing Deah Winchester on free will. "Making choices was always out of my Father's playbook. You said no, so the story changed. Brought Adam into play." And damn, why did he bring him up himself now, his Grace wailed up in renewed grief and Michael curled a hand into a fist. "The choices were always our own."

"Even yours?"

"Even mine," Michael said it without breaking eye contact, "otherwise I would have joined my Father's side the second I was free again, don't you think? If he had any control left over me?" Dean hummed and Michael could so easily see that the guy didn't trust him at all, which frankly went both ways.

"But he doesn't."

"He doesn't."

"Because of Adam."

"Adam, indeed."

\--

Reading books while Sam Winchester fake-translated a book in Enochian – and truly did they think he was created yesterday, how had they ever survived this far, this behavior was fooling no one – almost shuffled everything into amusement for Michael. Dean kept on eyeing him, having no turned a page in his own book in over an hour. The Nephilim was uneasy and twitchy, which more than ever proved to Michael that this plan of theirs was absolutely ridiculous.

Jack was a kid, nothing more than a child on whose shoulders had been placed too much. He could be good, could do good, Michael could see the potential behind inexperience and impatience, more than he would have expected from a son of Lucifer. There was no reason to get rid of the nephilim but turning him into the new God was just not happening, power was too quickly corrupting the young.

And even though these three might not want to see it but Jack's father had once been good as well before he had fallen, the potential for that was there, too, and Michael wanted to see first where Jack's human side was going to take his character. The kid needed to grow up, have a family, live a life, then he could take his place in Heaven.

Whether that was at Michael's side or taking over for him remained to be seen.

And before any of that, they needed to take out God first anyway.

His plan within a plane was running smoothly, since his brother's unexpected and unwelcome brief return, he was even more than just a few steps ahead.

\--

And then it was time.

As the Winchesters left to prepare themselves and Jack cited the same, Michael used the given chance and made a short trip to the place where Adam and him had returned topside after the Cage had been broken and they had finally believed it to be real. Stull was silent and there was no sign of his Father having been here in a long time, probably having given up on letting another showdown play out in this dreary place.

Michael though went to his knees in the spot where once a hole into his damnation had opened, a damnation that had ultimately led to an awakening. He was no longer the Prince of Heaven who followed rules and acted on God's word. He hadn't been that loyal son in a very long time, it just had taken almost too long for him to notice.

A Prince of Heaven no more.

It was time to become more.

So he knelt in the damp grass, closed his eyes and called upon the remnants of power that had once destine this place into becoming a heavenly battleground. He called upon the Grave that two angry archangels had once sent out in panic and terror as the blackness had caught them and pulled them into Hell. He called upon the remnants of a soul's presence that back then had still been a stranger.

He breathed.

He grew still.

Knowing that this was the only chance humanity had left.

Knowing that this was the only chance he had to ever get Adam back.

\--

Before he rejoined the Winchesters, he took one quick flight to the spot high upon the Grand Canyon where he had taken Adam as their first venture into humanity after the Cage had caused a panic attack in Adam that no soothing wings had been able to lessen until they had been here in the middle of nowhere. Only miles of untouched nature around them.

Adam had three more times asked to be brought here and it was where Michael had taken them after their first confrontation with the Winchesters. Just to breathe. To think. And to grieve.

Adam's presence was strong here, still, because he had been happy here, because he had felt so free in this spot.

Michael stood in the high sun and revelled in the silence, missed the sounds of nature all the time, missed the sound of Adam's steady breathing and the thuds of his heart, his sighs of contentment. He pulled out Gabriel's blade. It wasn't his weapon, it wasn't the sword he had created himself, formed after his own desires and skills, that one had been lost to the darkness of Hell, would forever be too corrupted to be worthy his hands again.

But this blade had killed Lucifer twice now, had won out over evil twice.

And the symbolism wasn't lost on Michael either, how much had Gabriel suffered for being their Father's pawn in just another storyline. How much had Gabriel paid in pain and fear and loneliness and abandonment? Cut off from his family, cut off from Heaven, died in a world that hadn't even meant to exist, died in a thrown out draft.

His little brother had always deserved so much more.

Michael would get it for him.

\--

_**"Father, there is something you need to know."** _

\--

Whether or not the Winchesters or Jack suspected anything when he joined them just as they were walking towards their car, Michael didn't care for it. The Nephilim was still trying to syphon his Gace but Michael's defenses held. They arrived at the lakeside and Michael knew he couldn't have picked a better place because nature was still mostly untouched here and had been for a very long time, it meant power and strength.

A power that wasn't Heavenly, that wasn't truly God made.

It was Pagan.

The old Michael would have shied away, would have been disgusted and absolutely appaled at reaching for this method but now, he saw it as an advantage. And this blade certainly knew this kind of power well and easily reached for it quite on its own, Michael didn't have to do a lot himself.

He watched the brothers set up their strange spell that would absolutely do nothing but create a little lightshow since Michael had tweaked it. They didn't need to call upon God anymore, he was already on his way.

And Michael was ready.

Sam was still in the process of standing up again, light beams shooting from the sandy ground up into the sky, as Michael turned on Jack. There was time for questions and explanations later, he needed to act first, and there wasn't something they could do anymore anyway.

"I'm sorry," he still said and then snapped the nephilim close enough to swipe Gabriel's blade across his throat. "This is the only way." Another snap had the screaming and protesting Winchesters frozen on the spot as Michael let Adam's body take a deep breath. He kept his eyes on the shocked blue ones of Lucifer's son as he took in Grace and power and magic, none of which had the signature of a nephilim. Grace that felt wrong in Jack but so right when it settled right among the one already running through Michael and Adam's veins.

The Grace of another Michael.

When it was done and Michael felt ready to go incoporal to control his Grace, he let go of Jack again, let him stumble back until he could reach Sam Winchester. He snapped again and freed the brothers as much as he healed the shallow cut on Jack's throat. Sam drew the now very much human nephilim behind him, no doubt having realized what had happened while Dean made another more forward, face contorted with fury.

  
"What the fuck have you done?"

"Did you seriously believe I wouldn't catch onto your little game here?" Michael calmly reacted to the thunderous anger coming his way, if he riled Dean up a little more still, he could still gain even more strength before his Father arrived. "Did you seriously believe you could use me to power up your little not so secret weapon even more? What was to follow? Jack kills my Father and becomes the new God? A child? Meant to rule over universes? Meant to carry creation itself in his hands? He doesn't even know the responsibility he would carry! He could never understand it!"

"He is not just a child!"

"No, he isn't," Michael explained and let his wings unfold, stretched them out to keep containing the power surge within himself, his Father was close. "But I've seen too many nephilim be corrupted by the Grace within, I will not let him take this power on until he knows what is at stake." Sam's brows furrowed, head working fast, Dean simply looked confused now.

"And I'm supposed to trust **you** with that power?" He rightfully demanded but Michael shook his head, it wasn't about trust anymore, that could come later, it was about what was the right way now.

"Stand back, Dean." He gave the order and not a moment later he slipped the blade into Adam's dominant hand and then slowly turned around as his Father appeared not a three steps behind him.

\--

_**Oh glorious Archangel St. Michael, Prince of the Heavenly Host, defend us in battle, and in the struggle which is ours against the principalities and powers, against the rulers of this world of darkness, against spirits of evil in high places.** _

\--

"Father."

"Son."

"You went too far."

"Au contraire," his Father argued and there was no love in his eyes, no kindness, just sheer unbelievable coldness, no care, just jealousy because all of them here had felt what he never would. True loyalty. True friendship. True love. "I haven't even started. It was nice to give me the heads up, Michael, but you still chose the wrong side."

"You told him?!"

"Dean, shut up," Michael growled and it came out like thunder, successfully shutting the oldest Winchester up and also prompting them to take more steps back. Michael was quite sure that what was about to happen wouldn't hurt them but you never knew when you played with more power than you had ever had in your hands. Power that was only going to become more. "You took from me."

"An insignificant little..."

"Silence!" Michael roared and his father stumbled back a step, the Winchesters and Jack crashed down the shore into the shallow water. Michael knew his eyes would be lit up with Grace, knew his Father would be able to see the lightning crackling along his wings if he only cared to look. "You are done speaking!"

"You dare..."

"I am not on their side! I did not place my loyalty with the Winchesters!" Michael snarled and he felt victorious when he saw the fight rise in his Father, it was what he wanted and needed. "But it isn't with you either. It's never truly been, I can see that now. My loyalty laid with a lie, I followed the orders of a liar, acted out the will of a fraud!"

_Whoosh._

His Father took a step back after the first wing hit, then his head snapped to the side when another connected.

And Michael was only getting started.

"You take and take and take and still you expect for everyone to kneel in prayer! To seek help, to seek answers they'll never get! For half an eternity I spent my time holding Heaven together, spent my time ruling in your stead, your name! Countless times I ensured whole garrisons of angels that one day he will come back. One day, when Paradise reigns on Earth, he will return and lead us once more. He will give us answers!"

\--

    _**"And you're just going to do whatever God says?"**_
    
    _**"Yes, because I am a good son."**_

\--

Too long Michael had spent in the shadows.

Too long he had let himself be underestimated by Heaven and Earth and Hell.

Even by garrisons of angel under his lead. Even by his own brothers.

Good Michael. Loyal Michael. Prince of Heaven. Stickler to the rules.

All of that, no more.

He would show just what the first being in creation was capable of.

"For thousands of years I have spent time and time again on guiding humanity to pain a picture of Heaven, of angels, of Paradise. Of me. And you! For thousands of years I told them lies!"

Every word was thunder echoing from the distant mountains.

Every word was lightning cracking across the cloudless blue sky.

Every word was ripples shivering along widespread wings.

Every word was one less stab of pain against his grieving Grace.

"For thousand of years you made me the Deceiver! You let Lucifer speak the truth and I became the Snake!"

That accusation he accented with another slash of his wings against his Father who grew only angrier and began to defend himself, Michael nearly took a breath in relief to have him at that point so quickly. Nearly there. Keep going.

"I carried Cain's and Abel's legacies for generations and generations in sheltered hands so that one day I could save humanity from my brother!" Michael wrenched his right hand back to point at Dean and Sam, who were standing once more, even if soaking wet. "I send whole garrisons to their deaths so that their destiny could unravel! When in truth it was nothing but some story cooked up by a writer who could never get fully entertained!"

**\--**

_**"Think of a million random acts of chance that let John and Mary be born, to meet, to fall in love, to have the two of you. Think of the million random choices that you make, and yet how each and every one of them brings you closer to your destiny. Do you know why that is? Because it's not random. It's not chance. It's a plan that is playing itself out perfectly. Free will's an illusion, Dean. That's why you're going to say yes."** _

**\--**

Lightning hit closer now, sending shockwaves into the earth and Michael had a second of focus to spare some hope that he had left the nephilim enough Grace to protect the Winchesters.

"My brothers are dead because of you! You claimed us your finest children and sent them to die for your stories! In every world, we were nothing but weapons to throw away. Toys to discard when they weren't fun anymore!"

The power began to rise in his Father and Michael braced himself for it, raised his wings highter to catch the lightning bolts now, let it fill every feather with the power his Father had once placed into every tree, very bush, every flower, every single leaf of grass. Every drop of water. Every grain of sand and dirt. Every rock in mountain ranges.

Humanity was gone. Animals were gone.

But nature endured. This part of every Earth his Father had ever created, this part that was everywhere the same, this part he had always called truly divine, it simply was divine. Touched upon by God's powers more than humanity ever had been, nature had been free, no manipulating hands spinning their story along. Nature had never rebelled, every fiber still carried true divine power.

"The countless lives to further your plot! The needless deaths to please your oversized love for drama! You're the real True Killer, Father."

Lightning hit him right on and Michael used the flash of strength to turn his wings corporal.

There was a quiet "holy shit" from Dean but Michael only wished it could have been Adam to see him like this. Blinding white feathers shimmered with electric blue Grace. And in all honesty, in that moment Michael was only interested in what his Father had to say anyway.

"What have you done?" It came to his great satisfaction, his Father's saccharine sweet voice booming across the sandy clearing, fear hiding behind strength.

"You killed and you manipulated, you killed again! You created new drafts. and you spun story webs, threw it all away when it just for a second displeased you. Whole worlds, whole universes eradicated because the ink dried too quickly for your tastes. But this is where it ends, where it all ends. For you."

"Because of them?" His Father wanted to know, his voice filled with nothing but incredulous disbelief, "suddenly you care about the fates of Sam and Dean Winchester?"

"Not because of them."

\--

_**"You're my true vessel but not my only one."** _

_**"Oh, me and some archangel are going to kill the devil."** _

_**"He is John Winchester's bloodline, Sam's brother. It's not perfect, but it's possible."** _

_**"I'm a good son, and I have my orders."** _

_**"Adam isn't home right now."** _
    
    
      _**"I wouldn't know. I don't know much about any of this. You'll be my guide."**
      _
    

\--
    
    
     " _ **So, what about you? You gonna go back to heaven?"**_
    
    _**"I don't know. My brothers are dead. My father never returned. In so many ways, I'm alone."**_
    
    _**"Yeah. Same here. It's not like I have family waiting to see me."**_
    
    _**"You have the Winchesters, your brothers."**_
    
    _**"I met them once. And they let me rot in hell."**_
    
    _**"Family."**_
    
    _**"Family sucks."**_

\--
    
    
    _**Since when do we get what we deserve?**_
    

\--

Michael would spent the rest of his existence ensuring that Adam would get what he deserved, the good, all the good in this world. The Kindness. The Love. The Friendship. The Loyalty. The Compassion.

"Him?" His Father demanded with even more incredulous confusion, "that minor blip on the radar? A side character? Come on, Michael, you cannot be serious. Heaven's Prince, Heaven's fiercest warrior, the oldest of all Archangels, ready to burn the world to the ground for one insignificant human?"

"I'll do everything for him."

There was nothing in Creation itself, nothing beyond it even, that would ever be powerful enough to stop him from doing right by Adam.

And maybe, just maybe, those words he had just spoken with all the calm conviction he was capable of, maybe those words had been the first ever true thing he had said. Not God's will enacted from his words. No destinies formed from his words. No strings on him pulled by invisible hands.

Those strings had been cut the second Adam had been taken.

"I never would have believed that you, of all angels, would fall for that flaw in my design, too." His Father snarled at him after a brief pause and Michael knew he had him exactly where he wanted him then. "The angels I could hardly understand already, to get that attached. To something so small, something so breakable. To turn their back on Heaven, on the might of Heaven, to be with humans." His Father spit the words out with a look thrown past Michael where he knew the Winchesters were standing. He could hear Dean moving already, knew the insult against Castiel wouldn't be left unchallenged but thankfully before Michael had to throw away precious Grace to intervene Sam was moving as well to hold his brother back.

"You wrote it like that," Michael wasn't in the mood though to leave the words just hanging there either, Castiel and all the other rebellious angels might have disappointed him once but now he knew that they had been in the right, and not him. And even those angels were his brothers and sisters. "You wrote their fates like that. This flaw in the design was created by you! Castiel, Anna, Anael, Samandriel... even Gabriel.. how can you..."

"Gabriel was the biggest disappointment," his Father said it without any hesitance, without any pain, "how soft he turned out. I must have not taken care with him at all. Heaven's fiercest weapons, you were supposed to be perfect, Michael." His Father was completely lost, there was nothing anymore that Michael recognized in him, nothing anymore in him that he liked, and maybe that was because his Father had changed but he would bet on it it was rather he himself whose eyes had finally be opened to the truth.

Thanks to Adam.

"Okay, enough," he decided then in a tone that left no room for argument, everything that happened was final now. "I'm done listening. I'm done hearing what you have to say." Michael stood straighter still when he drew his wings up higher still, Grace fading from each feather slowly as he drew it in, as he drew everything down to Adam's fingertips. "I don't see a mighty God in front of me. I don't see the Father who once abandoned his children because it pleased his story. All I see is an old man throwing a temper tantrum because the universe doesn't care for his stories anymore. All I see is an angry man screaming but no one listens."

"You dare..."

"Dare to defy? Yes, I am," Michael clarified and flared up his eyes once more, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that the bluish tinge to his Grace would be gone. All there would be was blinding white light. Blinding white divine power. "There is just a small difference between Lucifer and me right now, the same difference that laid between Raphael and Gabriel. I can see it all now. Lucifer rebelled to get you back, Father. I'm rebelling to get rid of you."

And then it was out and spoken and his Father was furious with rage and power was curdling up inside of him, slipping out among the cracks in his composure and Michael knew his Father wouldn't be able to see it in his fury but he did. Tiny tendrils of white and blue running across the cracked and charred sand between them.

Away from his Father.

Towards Michael.

He snapped out his left hand when the first tendril reached his foot and his palm roughly connected with the side of his Father's face, freezing him in place.

"Among all the horrors that Castiel showed me in his memories to convince me onto their side, among all the revelations and the uncomfortable truths, there was one thing that Adam held onto the most. That I hung onto. One simple truth that this other Michael said."

\--

_**Even God can die.** _

\--

"Goodbye, Chuck."

Michael wrenched Adam's right hand forward and plunged Gabriel's blade into his Father's vessel, right into his chest. The man had never had a heart, so much was clear, maybe his vessel had never had one as well, and it didn't even matter where he ended it, but he liked the symbolism. Hoped that one day, when he had fixed it all, Adam and Gabriel might like the symbolism as well, that they had both been there in that moment.

It hurt, of course it did.

Burning his Father out without destroying his power, it took so much out of him. Burning his Father out without killing Amara as well. There needed to be balance, there needed to be good and bad to keep the universe from falling apart.

So Michael burned and drowned.

Took in and destroyed.

Drank in and eradicated.

For a moment then as the hand curled around the blade began to slip under the tremors rocking Adam's body, Michael feared it might still fail but then there were two hands reaching to steady him. Dean on his right, curling a hand around the one shaking on the blade. Sam on his left, placing his hand on the one on Chuck's face.

"I don't know if you'll survive like this," Michael choked out between gritted teeth, eyes falling shut, it was just so much.

"Then we'll die," he heard Dean answer with confidence, "it's better than not doing anything and see you fail in saving the world." And it was probably the closest thing to forgiveness Michael was ever going to get from these two for the things he had done to them in the past and just now but he took it with grateful acceptance.

Used the close presence of these two powerful bright souls to fuel the last attack he needed.

And then everything went black.

\--

When he got to again, he was lying on the hard ground, sounds filtering in before anything else did.

"What if he's..."

Jack.

"He's not dead. The sun isn't going out. Just give him a moment."

Dean.

"Shouldn't we do something? Get him... comfortable?"

Sam.

"How, Sammy? By breaking his wings in the process? They're all over the freaking place. I don't want to spend my first hour post Chuck by pissing off the new... God? Is he God now? That was the plan with Jack, wasn't it?"

"I'm not calling myself God," Michael spoke up quietly before they could frazzle their nerves even more and he took a moment to breathe before he sat up and shook out his wings. Turned them back into their metaphysical plane right away as well, they had been needed but now they would remain hidden again, too personal, too private, too everything.

"Thank God, he's not dead."

"Dean, you just said..."

"But you are him, are you not?" Sam spoke right over Jack's confusion and Michael opened his eyes again, feeling relieved upon seeing that he hadn't flattened the world around them for miles. A few trees had paid the price for Chuck's destruction and the Winchesters looked a little dirtied and roughed up now, might have been thrown back into the water or the sand as the final lights had been taken out of Chuck. "You're... you have his powers now."

"I do. I burned him out. He's no more." Michael explained and felt faint as he got back to his feet, his familiar was still there, curling back around Adam's body, still curled around the emptiness within where a soul was meant to sit. But there was more now, so much more.

"And Amara?" Dean wanted to know and Michael looked over to him, Dean was grimacing at his boots and wringing water out of his jacket, he must have been flung back into the water then.

"She's there, too, within me. I'll take my time to figure out how to let her go again, all she wants is to live, be among humanity, be free of Chuck as well. I will grant her that wish," Michael explained and then held out Gabriel's blade to Sam. "Thank you for this. I give it back to you, I won't be needing it anymore."

Sam approached on cautious steps and took the blade, Michael looked over to where Jack was more or less cowering behind Dean.

"I am sorry, Jack. For having to betray you as such but I couldn't let them go through with their plan. I fully believe that one day you will be ready to take your place in Heaven, that one day you will be meant to carry this power and the responsibility but not right now. You're a child, still, you deserve to experience what it means to have a family, what it means to be human so that one day you can watch over all of them with the right heart. Until then I will carry this power for you. And I know that I don't deserve your trust after what I did but..."

"No," Sam interrupted him and waved a hand in Dean's direction when his brother made to speak up as well, "What you did today. Frankly, what you did for Adam all these years in the Cage, it means that it's time for us to let the past be the past. Chuck is dead, he will not dictate our lives any longer, none of us. Everyone deserves a blank state now. Make the right first steps, Michael, and we'll trust you."

"Sam is right," Dean said as well and Michael met his eyes easier now, "you went behind our backs but it's not like we weren't doing the same. And let's be real, you didn't go into this to save humanity, to restore our world to what it was but neither did we. This was personal for all of us, your plan worked, that's all that matters. For me, anyway. Chuck is dead, we're free."

"Am I human again?" Jack quietly asked then and stepped up next to Dean but Michael shook his head and even smiled.

"No, you're still a nephilim. I didn't drain you dry like Lucifer did. I left enough to ensure that it could recover. You'll need some time but then you'll be as powerful again as you once were when you were born." His explanation was met with a grin and he would give Jack a chance, the chance that Lucifer never had, the chance that was ripped out of Gabriel's hands, the chance that Raphael so carelessly threw away.

"What happens now?"

"We start fixing," Michael answered Sam's question and then snapped two fingers. He transported them back into Lebanon, right onto the deserted and eeriely silent main street. The only car not crashed was Dean's Impala. Michael closed his eyes and let the power of creation flood his senses, let it guide him to what needed to be done to restore what had been taken.

He felt almost giddy in anticipation, felt like buzzing apart in hope and hope and hope.

\--

He breathed in.

He breathed out.

And opened his eyes again.

\--

The sudden return of so much noise was a little disconcerning but it was also the most wonderful sound he had ever heard, only topped by the utterly confused and totally appropriate _"what the fuck happened now"_ that rang out from within him. His Grace flared up in warmth and basically jumped with joy and happiness and love for the soul returned to him.

_"Adam?"_

_"Of course, it's me. Were you expecting someone else?"_

Michael grinned and shook his head, watched how Dean suddenly whooped as a sandy colored dog came running for him. He watched how Sam spun around and around to watch the people around them, going back about their lives as if nothing had ever happened, this way had been the easiest. They would wonder about the little amount of destruction but Michael wanted the majority of humanity to remain oblivious to the supernatural, they would explain it all away in their peculiar ways. Jack smiled at humanity, at the animals retaking their places, at people laughing and smiling, talking and walking and just living.

All of them, finally free.

_"You're not gonna tell me what happened?"_ Adam demanded in a sulking tone when Michael hadn't reacted to him right away and he sent an embrace of Grace to apologize.

_"In a moment. Give me some minutes with your brothers still then I'll take all the time to explain."_

"Eileen!" Sam just about then gasped and twisted himself back around to look from his brother to Michael. "Eileen! She's... she's all alone and she doesn't have her phone or her car and I..." Michael snapped and Sam disappeared, hopefully getting himself together before stuttering in the face of his love as well. Dean glanced up from his dog and thanked him with a smile.

_"Yeah, I can't wait for all those answers."_ Adam grouched and sent him a visual of himself with crossed over arms and glowering eyes.

_"In a minute."_

\--

"Can you bring him back?"

Dean's quiet question drew Michael out from his no-blinking contest with Adam inside their projection and he looked over to the oldest Winchester, Jack was glancing between them with his bottom lip pulled back by his teeth.

"Cas," Dean clarified as if it was needed, "can you bring him back? Chuck once said he had no hold over the Empty but we saw that was just another lie, so... can you? He was ready to let himself go but I'm not ready to let go of him. We're finally free to write our own stories and I need him at my side for this. Jack needs his father, too, you said he deserves a family and Cas needs to be there for it."

"Bringing angels back from the Empty takes a more delicate touch than undoing my Father's elimination. I've brought back everyone and everything his wipeout destroyed but Castiel was taken before it." His explanation was met with growing resignation on Dean's face and he hated it, surprised himself by hating it. There he was, drunk with joy over having Adam back – who was getting more confused by the second – and having just reunited Sam with his love while he started with the complicated explanation for Dean. "What I mean to say is that I'll need more time. I can't just open the Empty and risk letting the wrong angels let alone demons out."

"Yes, of course not," Dean stumbled over his words and stood up straight again, the dog bumping over to greet Jack who was staring at Michael as well though. "But..."

"But I'll have him back. Among some other angels whose fates were undeserved," Michael went on and Dean ticked up an eyebrow, hope letting his eyes shine. "Gabriel, Samandriel, Anna, to name a few. I've got my work cut out for me."

"Is Adam alright?"

"Annoyed that I won't give him answers. Go home, Dean, go home and rest and let it settle that you are free. I will have Castiel back with you within the next few days." Michael promised and meant it and Adam nudged at him, pleased and happy and touched.

"Will you be back, too?" Jack turned to him then and Michael saw a young boy looking for direction, looking for family, "I'd like it if you'd came back sometimes."

"I won't disappear like my Father did, but I will be hands off." Michael painted them the picture and looked around, "they're free now, we all are. No more stories written by invisible hands, no more manipulations and redos. I'll be around, go where Adam wants to go, maybe see to it that I'll create a vessel of my own for me. If you pray, I will listen."

"Thank you, Michael."

"Goodbye, Dean."

\--

**A week later**

\--

"So let me get this straight," Adam began when they had settled in a cosy hotel room right outside of Buenos Aires. "He snapped everything. Except my brothers, Lucifer's son and you." Michael nodded and sat down on the couch, an armlength of distance between them. Adam frowned as he crammed another French fry into his mouth and then continued to speak while chewing. "No wonder you went all glorious Archangel. I wouldn't have wanted to endure a world devoid of nothing but my brothers, either."

"They helped, Adam." Michael insisted, it was probably the third time they were having this discussion and always it centered back on this one point that Adam seemed to find so utterly amusing. "I'm not sure I could have done it without them."

"But you did it to get me back," Adam grinned in the very next moment and Michael rolled his eyes, "and yes, even after a week, I'm still very much loving it to point it out at least ten times a day. You wanted to get me back and saved the world as well." He looked so smug about it that Michael just had to reach for the closest pillow and throw it in his face, even though he was grinning himself.

"You make me want to vomit," another voice joined in and Michael and Adam both turned to look at the third party of their group who had for now agreed to hang around with them on their world tour. Gabriel fake gagged and plopped another lollipop into his mouth, Michael glared at him, carrying no heat in it but this new vessel that Adam had helped him create could really give a mean glare without meaning it. "If I had known this would develop into too sweet territory as well, I would have staid with the Winchesters."

"How about that," Adam mentioned and swallowed his last fries, "you could visit them to compare notes on unbearable sweetness which would give Michael and me some time to actually be alone." He proposed and quite intentionally pulled up his legs to drop his feet into Michael's lap who curled both hands around his ankles on instinct alone. "Or go and snatch away the nephilim, give him a break from too much love and romance by spoiling your nephew."

"I like you, Adam," Gabriel mumbled around the lollipop and Michael leaned back into the couch, knowing how their bickering went after a few days of it, "but don't overdue it."

"Or what?" Adam wanted to know and Michael could mouth along, closing his eyes as the happy grin on his face only went bigger, "you'll smite me? He killed God to get me back! You kill me now, he snaps his fingers and bam, I'm back again."

"I'm gonna go and find myself some pornstars."

"Have fun, Gabe."

"Suck a lemon, Mikey."

Everything was good.

\--

**The End.**


End file.
